Mistakes
by XeauxGhough
Summary: Greed has lost his home and his allies, on top of this he is incredibly bored... so what happens when he spots the reason for all of his misfortune on the streets and decides to return the favor? Well, trouble mostly. AU Brotherhood. Yaoi. GreedxEdward.
1. Trouble

**_Summary_**: Greed has lost his home and his allies, on top of this he is incredibly bored... so what happens when he spots the reason for all of his misfortune on the streets and decides to return the favor? Well, trouble mostly.

AU Brotherhood. Yaoi. GreedxEdward. Rated for embarrassment, dirty tricks, adult situations, potty mouths, raging alchemists and unhappy endings! Yaoi consists of boy on boy sex! You have been warned!

*******This story basically takes place right after the episode of FMAB; _Those Who Lurk Underground_. A few things I should point out. One, Greed does not get captured by Bradley. Two, Maes Hughes- is _not_ dead. I just love them so much *^*, I had to bring them back(:*******

**Special thanks** to my Beta-_ kalina ar' mori_! Without her I am nothing~

**_Disclaimer_**: I do not own anything! Nothing of Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to me! And... probably never will, sadly ;_;

* * *

Mustang sighed.

It had become a simple reaction; to sigh every single time the Fullmetal Alchemist came his way. The Elric brothers were always trouble.

And today was no different. Only a couple of weeks ago had the boys been involved with the fifth laboratory, which now laid in ruins where it once stood. And now the boys were back, once again in trouble, fresh out of Dublith.

This same blonde, fire ball of destructive was seated in front of Mustang at the very moment, pouting on the couch- right next to his brother.

Edward was, at least, aware of the trouble he was in. The blonde was sitting quietly, that was all the proof in the world that Ed knew he wasn't getting out of this mess easily.

Mustang had heard that his subordinate had been escorted to Central immediately after being arrested, then soon after thrown right into his office. Mustang had been ready for some apocalyptic fist-throwing, cursing and screaming.

Except, that wasn't the case here.

Edward was still, and from what Mustang had heard, ever since he went into custody back in Dublith he hadn't spoken a word. Now the boy was sitting motionless on the couch next to his brother, slouched slightly and giving off his best impression of being calm.

It was quite obvious to Mustang, however, that there was something wrong.

Edward's hands had been shaking since Mustang first walked in, and they were now fists clenching tightly to his pants. The way he was avoiding eye contact told Mustang that the boy wasn't just angry- something had Edward seriously worried, and Alphonse wasn't any better.

Mustang was curious to know what had both boys so shaken.

He took his eyes off the boys in front of him and scanned over the papers in his hands again. the reports ran plain; Edward and Alphonse had arrived at the Devil's Nest, the Fuhrer had arrived with his forces and then orders were carried out. Those at the scene were to be arrested, even the Elric brothers.

Something had gone wrong, though, and that's when the bloodbath began. The brothers had been taken in safely, but the other one hundred and twenty-three targets had all been killed- except one.

And this _one_ seemed to be the cause for all of the commotion. A dangerous man, a criminal of the country and a psychopathic murderer was on loose now, and apparently, according to Bradley, it was all because of Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Mustang wasn't sure what to think himself. Edward was always prone to act in self-interest. If the boy needed someone to escape, Edward was an expert at making it seem like a mistake and rarely slipped up, but maybe this one time he had been caught in the act.

Then again, Edward wasn't someone who would just let murderers slip through his fingers without a really, _really_ good reason.

That meant someone up top was lying, or Edward was lying.

Mustang didn't like either of the outcomes.

For now, though, Mustang just didn't know. He didn't have enough information and hadn't heard the boys' side of things.

"So." Mustang began, now seated at his desk with his hands folded just under his gaze.

The curtains in the office had been pulled hours ago, artificial light now dominating and throwing shadows around the room. Outside, even at the late hour, you could hear the sound of someone talking outside the door, or just the murmur of a car passing by down on the streets. Edward, like Mustang had noticed before, was practically motionless, bangs hiding his eyes and fists buried in his knees. Not even Mustang's voice had affected him.

Alphonse, however, looked up to listen.

The youngest Elric had been in a somewhat different state than what Edward had turned into, he had been cautious, timid, but Al had always expressed his emotions openly, whether he meant to or not. He wasn't the type to bottle himself up like his older brother, but he also wasn't one to spill secrets easily.

With Mustang, however, Al was the better bet when it came to getting to the bottom of things.

"Alphonse." Mustang's voice was steady- causing the boy to stiffen in his seat. "What happened?"

Alphonse glanced down to Edward, who wasn't giving his little brother any sort of hint on how he should answer, or if he should say anything at all. Edward wasn't talking.

"_Alphonse_." Mustang demanded, and this time Alphonse only held Mustang's gaze for half a second, before shooting down to Edward's direction again desperately.

"Well... um." Al's tiny voice broke through the vow of silence, echoing around the room in a strange, stale way.

"Well, what, Alphonse?" It wasn't a question, but more of a exhale as Mustang picked up another file from his desk and lazily scanned it over again.

It was a warrant for an arrest, and lots of other fancy paperwork describing the incident. Mustang dropped it back down bored of it,and waited for Alphonse to continue.

The youngest brother had paused for a minute more, eyes shifting from Mustang's to where his brother sat, until, finally, the boy gave in and decided that his brother would stop him if he said anything he shouldn't. "We were in Dublith."

"Yes, I know that." Mustang shifted, resting his elbows on his desk.

"And we were... visiting teacher, like we said." Al decided to watch his fingers twist around themselves as he spoke, rather than stare into Mustang's gaze.

"Yes." Mustang sighed heavier this time, trying to get Alphonse to spit it out, but every time the boy stopped he had to stare a minute at his brother to make sure he could go on. At this rate, Mustang would be up trying to get the boy to talk for another good couple of hours- he didn't have that long. "I also know about the property damage, the convict you two let escape..." He continued, hand resting on the document which stated this.

Alphonse became more distressed, but Edward was still detached. Mustang's voice became louder as he tried to coax out something he could use.

"What I want to know" Mustang continued, crossing his fingers below his eyes once more. "-is _what _happened and _why._"

"Don't tell him anymore." Edward suddenly spoke before his brother could answer. His head slowly rose and he locked eyes with his superior.

"Edward, I need to know what happened." Mustang's glare was just as intense as Edward's fiery slits. He was frustrated, what could be so bad that Edward felt the need to be stubborn and refuse talk.

The blonde leaned back, letting his back rest on the cushions, but he kept his head up, kept staring back wholeheartedly at his superior. Alphonse, though, was nervous now, and successfully quiet. He was done talking for the night, but since Edward was awake now, Mustang was going to make him take the lead.

"It wasn't Alphonse." Edward's voice was raspy and the sound was sore. He eyes fell away and he winced as he moved to sit further back on the couch. "We didn't just let that guy go. I was fighting him and he- he won."

Those golden eyes looked up from under blonde bangs and it was the truth. Edward didn't admit defeat easily.

"Then he left right when the soldiers found us." He finished.

Mustang undid his usually strict posture and sank back into his chair, causing it to creak with the weight. It wasn't the boys fault, but right now, with the way the story was being told, Edward and Alphonse both let the man escape. Even if they were innocent, there had to be some sort of punishment.

Mustang had spent a good couple of hours trying to get the boys a break, he couldn't give them much, but the end result was loads better than was the circumstances would have been. Before there had been talk of jail, but the boys weren't criminals- not until proven. It was going to be rough, but not as bad.

Now all he had to do was make the boys play along till things blew over.

"They wanted to lock you up, you know. Both of you." Mustang heard Edward scoff but went on. "You're lucky they've let me give you so much slack as they did. You two are still innocent, and since you have people to look out for you, you're getting it easy. All you have to do now is follow orders and behave, then all of this will go away, got it?"

Alphonse nodded directly in response, but Edward had turned away, sulking.

"_Edward?_"

"Yeah, whatever." The blonde huffed, sinking further into the couch, waiting for the worst.

"Good." Mustang sat up in his chair and proceeded to straighten up and put away the files strewn over his desk. "Alphonse, you will be escorted to Resembool, the last train leaves in twenty minutes. There is a car down stairs waiting to take you to the station. While you're there, you will be under surveillance, you understand, until further notice." Mustang glanced up just in time to see the boy nod nervously and once again steal a glance to his brother who had all but figured it out that they weren't going to be together on this one.

"And Edward..." Mustang shoved the rest of the paper into the middle drawer and locked it with a key he had had in his jacket pocket. The chamber clicked once and Mustang pulled the key out satisfied, returning in to it's place. His eyes went up again, resting completely on Edward. "You'll be staying here in the city."

"Why can't I stay with Al?!" Edward jumped up in protest, gaining his normal character in two seconds. Mustang couldn't decide if he was relieved that Edward was back or not.

"Because you are my responsibility, not Alphonse. And I have been ordered to separate you two for the time being. They already have a hotel room for you, not too far away from here. Everyday you are to report here, and then you are free to do as you please as long as you do not leave Central. If you leave the city or miss one day of reporting, they will throw you and Alphonse right into prison, understand?"

"That's not fair!" Edward stood up, Alphonse right behind him.

Mustang had known that this was going to be the most difficult part. The Elric brothers were never apart unless the had no other choice. Where ever one was, the other was right behind them.

"Do you understand or not, Fullmetal?" Mustang stood up as well, towering over Edward as the locked glares. "Not everything is going to be fair, Edward. Everyone has gone through a lot of trouble today all because you can't keep to your own business. Now I suggest you stop acting like a brat and own up to your mistakes."

Edward's anger wavered and his body slouched as he stood, defeated.

Mustang cleared his throat after a while, calming down.

"It's settled then." He decided and walked around his desk and towards the door. "We have to go, the station closes soon."

Edward pushed himself past Mustang without another word, Alphonse muttering a grateful thank you as he followed.

* * *

Outside the air was thick and heavy on everyone's back, and no wind blew to offset what was left of the heat from an unseasonably hot, early Spring sun.

It was already so late- Mustang didn't know where the hours had gone, it had felt like the day would never end.

It had been six when the boys arrived in Central, it had to be eleven now.

The city showed it's late hour well. Streetlamps were lit in every direction, casting hazy circles down to the sidewalks and roads below them. Horns called from the distance, old conversations hung abandoned in the sticky air, and unknown bumps and crashes sounded from the alleys of the nearly deserted city.

Mustang kept his eyes on the brothers as they proceeded down the stairs, out to the sidewalk and towards the twin black vehicles waiting at the curb as promised. Surrounding these two objects lit by the streetlamp to either side of them were a couple of low ranking military men, one in front of the doors of each car, and then four scattered about them, all facing forward and standing tall at attention.

There was another shadowed body present, standing out from the rest. A peculiar, much taller and suddenly sprinting man with his arms outstretched came straight at the boys on the stairs.

"Edward and Alphonse Elric!" The bald man bellowed, swiping Ed up into a death-grip embrace in one fluid motion. Edward hadn't even had a chance.

"M-_major_!" Edward managed to choke out, bewildered. Edward cringed as he tried to breath past the abnormally large muscle constricting his body. Alphonse jumped out of the way as Armstrong swung around to face him, Edward's limp body flailing in his arms.

"What are you doing here, Major?" Alphonse asked, shocked as well, watching in horror as his older brother was being squeezed to death right in front of him. Armstrong looked at him and grinned.

"I shall be accompanying you, Alphonse Elric, during you stay in the lovely town of Resembool!" The giant answered boisterously, muscles flexing as he hugged Edward even tighter.

"Ma-_AH_! Why are you only hugging _me_?" Edward screech turned into a hiss as what little air he could come by diminished, and he continued wiggling his arms free and pushing as hard as he could on Armstrong chest.

Armstrong dropped Edward in an instant and turned on Alphonse who shrinked in size under the man's gaze. Edward was on the ground grasping his ribs as he wheezed in pain, Alphonse the next to be crushed.

Edward looked up to mustang will a scowl, clutching his sides as he made an attempt to get on his knees.

"Why _him_?"

"He volunteered." Mustang shrugged, surprised that Alphonse's armor was not collapsing inside Armstrong's arms. Mustang moved closer and waited for Edward to get back on his feet before he broke the two up.

"Come on. The train." Mustang spoke, motioning the boys towards the cars waiting for them. The colonel's gaze turned to Armstrong's and both let the boys head to the cars as they stayed behind.

Both watched the brothers make their way slowly and stop to get on last goodbye in before getting into the vehicles. For a second in their conversation, Edward's eyes met Mustang's. They were glaring, of course, Edward was bound to throw a fit for a while at losing his little brother.

When Ed figured out that pouting wasn't going to get him anywhere, then he would stop.

Those golden orbs shot back to Alphonse and his glare faded into concentration.

"Any more information?" Armstrong was the first to speak, his light and frivolous tone from earlier gone and replaced with a serious air.

Mustang shook his head, hand trying to rub his eyes back to life. They were beginning to blur. "Nothing."

"_But this is too easy_." Armstrong whispered, his confusion shown clearly on his face as Mustang stood there, blank as before.

"I agree." Mustang turned towards his subordinate. "If they had wanted the boys detained, however, it would have happened. So there must be some other motive here."

"So this is either a good thing, or this could be dangerous." Armstrong continued, finishing Mustang's thought. "It just depends on what the reason is."

"- and who's behind it."

They turned back to see Edward hugging Alphonse. He let his little brother go with a pat on the back and stood by as Alphonse pulled opened the door and got inside his car.

"It's going to be hard on them." Armstrong spoke absentmindedly after a while, letting his thoughts escape into the heavy air.

"Mhmm." Edward was hanging in the window now, batting off the officer who was trying to get Ed into his own car. Mustang and Armstrong took this as their cue to start walking towards them. "Thank you again for agreeing to this."

"I have no complaints when it comes to a paid vacation." The man laughed wholeheartedly.

Mustang half smiled, but it disappeared in a second. "Just keep an eye out, Major."

"Of course, sir." Armstrong saluted, which was returned, and then went to the other side of the car to squeeze himself next to Alphonse, his playful mood from before now back in action. Mustang waved goodbye to them both, wondering to himself how in the world was it possible for them both to fit in a car together.

Edward had left for his own car the second Alphonse's had pulled out onto the street, but the blonde had watched until it had disappeared all the way around the corner from the back of his seat.

Mustang walked up to the window, and instantly Edward turned in his seat.

"Be here first thing in the morning, Fullmetal." Mustang ordered, staring Edward in the eye.

"Whatever." Edward whispered, tearing his eyes away and slouching further into his seat.

It was enough of a reply for the night. It was late and everyone was tired, just wanting to go home and sleep.

Mustang rapped the side of the car and stepped back on the curb. He looked to the blonde one last time and noticed that the brave face was gone.

Alphonse was gone, and now all Edward had to do was sit and wait until he had his little brother back.

In the end, it was always Edward who was the weakest of the two, and Mustang knew this.

_Edward needed someone._

Mustang watched Edward's car go off in the opposite direction Al's had and waited until it was completely out of sight. The tiny dot turned the corner and Mustang felt like dropping.

The night was finally done, he could go home.

Those left on the sidewalk were just as thankful and turned to head for their own cars.

Mustang did the same, now all there was to do was find the car, go home and sleep.

He yawned, pushing his sleeve up to glimpse at his watch- he sighed.

A quarter to midnight.

* * *

Well, the first chapter! Leave some love!

Another big, _big_ thanks to kalina ar' mori!


	2. Bruises

**_Summary_**: Greed has lost his home and his allies, on top of this he is incredibly bored... so what happens when he spots the reason for all of his misfortune on the streets and decides to return the favor? Well, trouble mostly.

AU Brotherhood. Yaoi. GreedxEdward. Rated for embarrassment, dirty tricks, adult situations, potty mouths, raging alchemists and unhappy endings! Yaoi consists of boy on boy sex! You have been warned!-**-**

**Special thanks** to my Beta-_ kalina ar' mori_! Without her I am nothing~

_Thanks to everyone who has commented! And to those who are following my story! It really means a lot to me, you have no idea! Please keep reading, and feel free to criticize, anything! I need all the help I can get, I'm so very new to this w_

_So! Thanks to yo B, RyaStar2, Lexi Elric and YokuMiya! I really enjoyed getting comments from you guys! They really just made my day! Thank you! 3_

**_Disclaimer_**: I do not own anything! Nothing of Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to me! And... probably never will, sadly ;_;

* * *

Quarter past midnight.

Edward threw his fist into the pillow and let it fall there, limp.

The bed settled from the hit and the world inside of the hotel room became quite again. Never in his life had he felt more absolutely and completely.

Ed tossed the blankets away with a sigh and sat up on the bed.

The glare from the alarm clock had the room in a red, dim haze. It was the only light the bedroom had since the shades on the window were down and the curtains were pulled.

The fan rattled above his head and continued to be useless in the heat consuming the room. The air was thick and stale, Edward was only in his underwear and was still sweating like crazy.

He groaned. Now that Al was gone, everything seemed to be getting at Edward's nerves, and the heat wasn't helping at all.

He pushed himself off the bed in irritation and left the room.

The living room wasn't any cooler than the bedroom, but the floor below him was like ice. Edward stood still, letting the chilled hardwood take some of his body heat away.

This room was brighter because of the wide, double window that let in the city's light.

His hair was a mess and his bangs were clinging to his forehead and more hair stuck to the back of his neck. He pulled apart his braid and swiped his bangs back out of his eyes, fingers tangling in the sweat matted strands as he forced the braid apart. He tossed the band to the side and brought his hand down to message his neck.

He sighed heavily again, worn out but wide awake, and went to the window overlooking the city. He rested his forehead on the glass and relaxed there as the ice took away the fever.

The room he had been ordered into wasn't bad, if he was honest with himself, but this particular hotel room was more like an apartment. There was so much space, it was starting to make him sick that he would be living in it alone.

He looked out the window, over the top of the neighboring buildings and to the stronghold in the center of the city. Central HQ was as bright and lit up as always, white glare staining the sky above it to a point where spotting even a single star was hopeless. It was nothing like the country Edward grew up in and preferred.

The clock ticked behind him and caught his attention. Edward glanced back to see the time.

Twelve thirty-five.

_What in hell was there to do alone at midnight in an empty hotel room? _

Edward made his way over to the first of the two couches behind him.

Pain shot threw his whole body as he forced his arms to stretch, gaging where he was hurt the most. His right shoulder was throbbing, shocks of pain shooting from each bruise on his neck to the cuts down his chest and back, then right through the port of his automail. The arm was still in complete ruin, the metal twisted and some parts were about to or had already fallen off. And because of that the port was irritated and hell-bent on revenge.

Every inch that arm went caused a surprised degree of pain. Sometimes small shocks would run through him, more commonly electric would jump through his nerves and tear through his neck and down his chest.

He could get over pain, though. He was more worried about the sight his arm had become. Luckily his coat hid the damage perfectly, so until he could get it fixed, that would be his plan. He would wear his jacket so no one would question him or scold him about another fight.

Though, Edward would have to find someone in the city to repair his arm this time. Some random mechanic in the city wouldn't be able to fix it, not without the designs, so replacing was probably his best bet at. He couldn't leave it like it was and Winry was usually the person he turned to, but it wasn't like he could call her up right now.

Winry had just repaired him, and on top of that she had a job now in Rush Valley. Edward couldn't leave Central.

Someone here would just have to do.

The couch creaked as Edward moved onto his side rather than his back to get more comfortable. His eyes closed for a few moments, and then they slid back open defiantly, his mind absolutely refusing to unwind and let him sleep.

His eyes were adjusted now and settled on the two, mismatched travel bags laying by the door where he had abandoned them. Some soldiers had had the time to go back to Izumi's and get his things for him.

How nice.

He forced his eyes shut again and held them tight.

This was all that damn Homunculus' fault. If he hadn't kidnapped Al, then he wouldn't have had to go in and fight the bastard. The soldiers wouldn't have had to rescue the Fuhrer and no one would have had to have been arrested or killed.

He would still be with his brother.

And even after all of that trouble, that freak was still out there. Greed was on the loose and Edward didn't have a single clue to where he was or what he was going to do next.

_What if he went after Alphonse?_

Edward's eyes flew open again.

It was a possibility. If the homunculus needed to get Edward in his grasp again, he already knew that endangering Alphonse was the way to smoke Ed out.

Even with Armstrong there to help, they wouldn't match something like that; a carbon monster who could easily kill anyone on whim.

It gave Ed a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Alphonse needed his help, he wouldn't be there to save him. He wouldn't even be close to him.

He sighed in frustration and wiggled himself further into the cushions of the couch.

If that homunculus even dared to pull the same stunt twice…

The clock interrupted Edward's mind again, then, after a while, his thoughts had fallen away without notice- and all there was, was ticking.

* * *

Edward woke up around noon, a smile plastered on his face for two reasons.

The first reason was that he had had a genuine good night's rest. There was the horrible soreness in his lower back and shoulders, but that was a sign that everything was healing properly and there wasn't much more to be done about it.

The second reason, probably the main reason Edward was in such a great mood, was the simple, little fact that he had slept in even though Mustang had wanted him to come in early.

Edward's mood wasn't happy for long, though.

After shaking off the sleep from his body, he had looked around for Alphonse who should have been in the room with him like normal.

Edward almost jumped off the couch, wondering where he was- only to remember where Alphonse actually was.

His little brother was in Resembool. Edward was stuck in Central, worrying if Alphonse had made it there okay.

Edward rubbed his eyes and yawned, suddenly becoming sluggish and weary.

He got off the couch and let the sunlight wash over his back, his feet felt heavy and practically drug across the floor as he walked towards the bathroom. Edward supposed that the sooner he got to Mustang's office, the sooner he could get Al back.

He showered for a good twenty minutes, enjoying the hot water running over his aching body and relaxing tense muscles. After he had checked himself over and re-bandaged the more important wounds.

The end result of his brawl wasn't a pretty sight, he had to admit. Dark purple and green spots completely covered his torso and he was somewhat stunned when he saw the state of his back.

There were cuts on top of cuts, and bruises underneath those. The trail of bruises went up his spine and across his shoulder blades. His left arm was covered as well, and it was clear where most of those bruises had come from.

Edward's automail creaked in defiance as he lifted it to his left arm. He brushed his fingers over a particular mess of bruises and as they passed, each metal finger fit almost perfectly into the handprint on his arm; Greed's handprint, where he had grabbed Edward and thrown him a number of times.

It unsettled him, thinking about the pure strength that monster had displayed like it was nothing.

Edward shuddered. If the homunculus had really wanted to kill him, with no doubt in his mind Edward knew he would be dead that very moment. He would be tucked away in a body bag, buried in some morgue with the rest of those who died in Dublith.

Edward decided that he was a little more purple than he would have liked and turned to look at his coat on the hook of the bathroom door. It would have to come along today, no matter how hot it was going to get.

His eyes went back to the image of that one, very dark imprint of a hand captured in the mirror.

He was hypnotized by it; the purple fading from the middle to the green at the edges. And at the end of each dark, shadowy finger that wrapped itself around his arm there was a deepcut from where a claw had punctured and torn the flesh.

He swallowed, shaken by it, and pulled the coat over him carefully.

Slowly the hand grabbing him was cloaked in red and disappeared.

* * *

By the time Edward had made it to Mustang's office it was indeed well past morning.

The usual gang was all accounted for. Fury, Breda and Havoc were busy discussing something together over in the corner of the room while Havoc snuck a cigarette out of the opened window. Falman was seated at the table engrossed in his work and Hawkeye was at her desk in the corner, stacks of paper everywhere yet everything clearly neat and orderly, as usual.

Everything was the same, give or take a few papers.

It was Riza who first glanced up to Edward as he walked in.

She pointed her pen to the door of Mustang's main office and smiled a sly sort of smile at him.

"In there." Her voice rang over the hum of the room. Everyone else looked up to see Edward standing in the doorway and smiled and a few greetings were shared each way.

"Go on." Hawkeye caught Edward's attention and urged him on. He was late, after all.

Edward shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and made his way to the Colonel's office door.

Mustang didn't glance up. His hand was in a constant stream of writing, and his head was down focusing on what was in front of him.

Mustang's office wasn't small, but it wasn't exactly big either. From what Edward had overheard on a number of occasions the man would rather have the much nicer, more spacious office on the very top floor of the building where the Fuhrer currently ruled his country.

There were stacks upon stacks of paper surrounding the man sitting at his desk. Edward marveled at the heights of some of them before catching Mustang's hand motioning him towards the couch.

Ed took his seat and waited for the orders on whatever he was supposed to do now, but even after ten minutes and fifty-seven different sheets of paper that left Mustangs hands to join the 'done' stack to his left, nothing had been said between the two. The only sound in the room was the scratching of a pen on paper.

The blonde huffed and threw his head back, letting his eyes scan up the white ceiling all the way back to the top of the door where he had entered. His fingers started to tap in no particular rhythm on his knee, and soon enough his feet pitched into the song. His boots rapped the floor in beat with his fingers.

Mustang cleared his throat and Edward's head shot up, getting caught in Mustang's irritated glare.

"What?" Edward asked. He was bored, if Mustang wasn't going to give him something to do, then it was Mustang who was going to pay for it.

"Stop tapping, Fullmetal." Mustang answered, returning to his work.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Edward asked, irritated himself.

Mustang went didn't answer for a moment and went back to his work, then just before Edward was about to take back up his tapping Mustang decided to speak.

"There are some rules to follow." The man put down his pen and rested his eyes above his folded fingers. He waited for Edward's eyes to meet his before continuing. "The important ones, as you already know, is that you are not allowed out of the city's limits and that you must report here between five in the morning and six in the evening each day. After I have seen you personally, you can leave."

Edward huffed but Mustang ignored him completely.

"You can make phone calls, but only in the hotel where we have set up your phone to be monitored. You can't have visitors without asking and getting clearance and you must be back at the hotel by midnight each night. These are pretty reasonable rules, Edward. You better be thankful for that. And as long as you just abide by them, you can do whatever with the rest of your time." Mustang finished, waiting for his subordinate to answer him.

"How long is this for?" Edward asked.

"It depends." Mustang answered, not exactly sure himself. "This is by the Fuhrer's orders. From what I've been told, you can't leave Central until King Bradley has spoken to you himself."

"Well where is he? Why doesn't he just talk to me now?!" Edward shot out, annoyed. If talking to the Fuhrer was all it was going to take for him to get Alphonse back and get the hell out of Central, then what was he waiting for?

"The Fuhrer took some serious injuries in Dublith." Mustang spoke, leaning back in his chair but otherwise showing no emotion at all. "Due to that, he has been on bed rest since his return and no one is allowed to see him until he had recovered."

Edward grunted, his eyes left the Colonel's gaze and he grumbled under his breath. "That could take forever."

Mustang's glare sharpened. Not so much for the jab at the Fuhrer, but more for Edward's disrespect.

"King Bradley isn't as young as you are Fullmetal. It may take him a while to be well enough to move around again. Until then, you have no other choice but to follow orders, so just do what you're told."

Edward turned away from him. Subconsciously, he moved to cross his arms. Intense pain shot through his chest and nearly knocked the breath from him from the sudden movement. Edward contained his gasp but couldn't keep the pain off his face. He looked down quickly so his bangs would hide him.

Slowly he lowered his arm down on the couch again.

"So I can leave now?" Edward murmured hesitantly, still not looking to his superior.

Mustang, who had been watching Edward's subtle, pained expression, knew that he was injured and uncomfortable. The fact that Edward was wearing his coat was proof enough. Mustang didn't really care at the moment, though. If Edward wanted be immature and pretend he wasn't hurt, Mustang was going to let him. Edward didn't deserve to leave yet.

"_No_." He ordered suddenly, and Edward finally lifted his eyes to the dark eyes behind the desk. "For today go and help First Lieutenant Hawkeye with whatever she needs."

Edward stared at Mustang for a moment more then he dragged himself off the couch, only able to use his left are to support his weight.

He stood up and made his way for the door, cursing Mustang all the way. There was nothing more boring in the entire world than paperwork. And paperwork was Edward's punishment.

Breda and Falman had left, only four were now in the room, including Edward.

Fury was seated at the table on the far side, Havoc across from him. Both were still engrossed in what they had been with before.

Edward took his time walking up to Riza's desk, eyeing the mountain of paper.

"Welcome back, Ed, what do you need?" She had looked up at him and suddenly, Edward noticed the dark circles under the woman's blue eyes. If he remembered right, Mustang had those same shadows as well, and maybe even the rest of the team had them if he looked close enough.

Edward swallowed his guilt with a struggle, trying to clear his throat to speak. He was the reason for all of this work the team had to do.

"I'm here to help you today."

"That would be a big help!" Hawkeye smiled, looking relieved to have just one more helping hand. She lifted a stack to her desk and then stood to carry it over next to Fury.

"_Here_." She breathed, setting it down.

Edward followed her over and listened as she explained what he needed to do. It wasn't much, a small task he wouldn't be able to mess up. Ed sat down and started his work, feeling drained already with the promise of more to do after he was done with this.

For quite some time it was quiet in the little room, with Breda and Falman coming in and out every now and then to take away the finished stacks. And surely enough with all the work they were doing, the amount of paper in the room started to decrease.

Havoc leaned back in his chair, audible pops coming from his spine as he stretched. He glanced at the time then turned towards Riza who met his gaze.

"All right." She answered Havoc's unasked question and immediately the man's mood lifted. Havoc tapped Fury's hand and he came to, looking around to see what was happening.

"Fury too. Go take a break and get some lunch and be back in _thirty minutes_." Riza ordered and the two stood up, leaving in a hurry, eager to take their much anticipated and needed break.

Riza shook her head slightly and then watched Edward who was turned around and looking out into the hallway as they left.

"You can go too, Edward. I'm sure you're hungry by now."

It was true, Edward hadn't eaten since that morning and was starving, but he didn't really want to leave the room yet, even though a break sounded nice. If he were to go down to the cafeteria and end up sitting with Havoc and Fury, his break would turn into an interrogation with questions about what had happened in Dublith.

"No thanks." Edward decided, going back to his work.

Just as Edward had put down his pen, a familiar face strolled in.

"Hey Ed!" Maes Hughes called as friendly as ever as he went to Riza's desk, carrying two bags in his arms.

"Thanks, Maes." Riza sighed in relief, taking the bag he presented to her happily. She opened in up and it was clear why she was grateful as she pulled out container after container of hot food.

"No problem!" He laughed, tuning to lean on her desk and face Edward. "So what have you been up to, Ed? You know, besides this."

"Besides this?" Edward laughed a little, playing along. "Not a lot."

Edward stood up and walked to Riza's desk beside Maes, carefully setting the finished papers down. She put down a bowl she had been busy unwrapping and leaned down to grab more paper.

"You've made quite a mess this time, that's for sure, but it's great you're helping out!" The man remarked, taking off the remaining sheets of aluminum foil from the dishes. He reached back into the bag and brought out a fork and a styrofoam cup that smelled strongly of coffee.

"Yeah, yeah." Edward mumbled, playing with a paperclip that was keeping a stray stack of paper together.

Hughes leaned over and ruffled Edward's hair with a goofy grin.

"Always in trouble." The man mocked, quickly removing his hand as Ed batted it away. Maes grabbed the second paper bag up off of Riza's desk and turned to her, a thumb directed towards Mustang's door. "He's still alive in there right?"

"Better be." She smirked, answering him. "He still has a lot to do."

Maes asked her how much she thought they had left to do for the day and what time they were hoping to go home. Edward awkwardly balanced the papers in his left hand and dropped the pile to the table. His shoulder and neck seize, the muscle around the port throbbing violently.

Edward took a chance to stretch a little, trying desperately to work the muscles loose and stop the burning in his shoulder.

The flesh there was sore and getting worse all because of the constant motion of his arms from writing, carrying stack after stack of paper and the way his head was constantly bent down, but he would make it. He was almost done and now that he had spared a little attention to his shoulder, it was calming down. He risked messaging his neck and raised his arm to do so. He tried relaxing, but all he was doing was pushing down on the bruises all around his flesh.

Edward had given up and almost moved to sit back down when suddenly he heard a gasp.

He spun on his heels, hand still raised to his neck, to see what was wrong, but both Hawkeye's and Hughes' eyes were wide and locked on him, much more specifically; his arm. Ed realized that his sleeve had dropped and they were both staring at his purpled skin.

He dropped his arm immediately and pulled the sleeve back down.

"What _happened_?" A breathless question had made it to Edward's ears but he wasn't sure who had asked it.

"Uh..." Edward stumbled backwards flushed as Hughes moved towards him. Riza shot up from her seat to follow. He grabbed Ed's wrist gently, but demandingly and pulled the sleeve back again to examine him. Edward didn't resist, or more like, couldn't resist. Hughes, the usual laid-back, happy-go-lucky guy was scary when he was serious. Edward just watched as the man pulled back the cloth to reveal the ugly blotches on Ed's skin. "The fight-."

Riza's expression had turned into a scowl the second Edward had mentioned a fight.

Of course there had been a fight, and of course Edward had come back to them in such a torn up state like every other time, but Riza hated that. She hated seeing Edward and Alphonse coming back in pieces, broken and beaten.

Both Riza's and Maes' faces morphed into a shocked and hurt expression as his arm was turned over to reveal the hand print bruised there in his flesh.

"_God, Edward_." Hughes breathed, adjusting his glasses to take a better look.

Both sets of eyes were scanning him over, speechless by the horror scene painted onto Edward's skin.

"_It's __nothing_." Edward squirmed in the man's grip now, agitated. Hughes got the hint and dropped Edward's arm, but reached out and grabbed the other before the blonde could move away.

He took the right arm up into his grip and Edward almost cried out as electricity burned through every nerve his shoulder had.

Immediately he tried to push Hughes away and nearly screamed out in pain, but Hughes didn't let him go. Now his mess of an automail arm, torn up and mangled, was in their sights. Riza's glare intensified as Maes attempted to turn Ed's arm over. Edward chocked on his scream as he tore away from Maes' grip.

"Some fight. That's in _pieces_!" Riza shot out as Edward bent in on himself, holding his arm to him and trying to get the pain to subside. "I'm surprised that the rest of you is still held together. What the hell were you thinking?"

He didn't answer. Edward didn't know what he was supposed to say, he had been in worse fights than this, ones where he came back hospitalized. So what in the world was there to worry about with something this unimportant? It was only his port killing him, that was it.

This was the very reason he had worn his jacket today, so he wouldn't have to be stuck in a situation like this.

"Has anyone looked you over yet?" Maes asked with a sigh, running his hand through his black hair.

"There was a doctor in Dublith. Nothing's broken or anything, it's just some bruising and some cuts." Edward answered him quietly, adverting his eyes away from them. "And I'm going to figure out the automail today, so stop worrying."

"Does the Colonel know?" Hughes asked, once again picking up his bag from the desk and standing up straight.

"There's nothing to tell him." Edward whispered, even though he knew Mustang had already noticed.

"I see." He answered back before disappearing inside Mustang's inner office. Edward didn't know if that was meant as an 'I see, I'm going to go tell on you now' or if Hughes was going to keep it to himself.

Edward didn't care. He could handle himself no matter what the people here thought. Fights were a normal thing to him. Sometimes in order to get the information he and Al needed, they had to fight, so Edward wasn't sorry and he wasn't going to stop. Not when it brought him closer to reaching his goals.

"Go home." Riza suddenly spoke up, sinking heavily in her seat.

Edward looked at her and stood at her desk for a moment.

"I'm not done with the work yet." He shook his head to himself, about to turn to go back to the table.

"Go home." She whispered more gently, catching Edward's eyes in her's. "Give me that stack you have and go home. Get that arm of yours fixed up."

Edward hesitated and looked at her for a moment, then at the floor.

He turned and struggled with moving the papers to his left hand, then set them at her desk and left without another word.

* * *

Man- it sure was hot...

And insufferably _boring_.

Greed looked down with a stale expression to the city below him. His left leg swung off the edge of the building he had happened to find himself upon. His head rested lazily in his palm, supported by an elbow settled on his knee, and he sat there, pouting. The man felt like he could sit there the entire day and just waste time, that was, he could if he didn't feel completely and utterly rattled in doing so. Being in Central, knowing all that went down amongst the city and underneath, who exactly was only a couple steps away from him, it all was almost nerve wrecking. He hadn't run the risk to come back to the damn city ever since he left the 'family' however many centuries ago.

So why did he come back now, of all times?

Maybe it had been his near assassination, he thought to himself and his lips twitched into a sneer at the idea. The thought struck a nerve for some reason and he needed to show those assholes that he wasn't intimidated. Even though it had shaken him up a bit, he wasn't going to run with his tail between his legs.

And what a close call it had been. Too close for comfort. He would have been finished had the situation played out the slightest bit differently. If not for his shield, would he be dead? Would he have died at the hands of that damn, mediocre excuse for a homunculus?

_Yes_.

Greed's ego wouldn't let him accept that feeling of fear and displacement, however, so he ultimately, like many, many other times before in his life, converted fear into a more manageable emotion, a more stable one. Boredom.

That was a more responsible emotion than fear, at least, and loads easier to handle than anger.

His life was the most valuable thing to him, anything else he could live with losing. So when his honor was questioned and revenge was prying itself into his thoughts, he only had to remember that it simply wasn't worth the fight if there was even the slightest chance he would lose. His pride wasn't anything that interested him as well. He wasn't about to go run straight into Central HQ and pick a fight.

He was just here to- to brag about still being alive and well. He was here to rub it in whoever's face who happened to pass along. Greed was still breathing, despite Father's best attempts at killing him. He had _won_.

The homunculus sighed into the hot, sticky air and gazed up into the sky at nothing in particular. Scraps of thin, lazy cloud floated along a sick blue with a hellfire star beating down on everything underneath itself. He just let the sunlight hit his face as it came and listened to whatever noise the city below offered. Horns honked, a siren or two cried out far off, people were walking, talking, and went about their meager lives under a miserably hot sun.

He sighed again into his palm and wondered for just the slightest second if it was a smart idea to be this close to this city. Especially to that cursed, white stronghold only about twenty blocks away. He could see it above the other buildings, those monstrous white walls. It was the very place where that damn, smug-ass bastard would be pacing in his comfy little office, staring out his oh so important windows, bossing those little brainwashed minions around and pretending like he's the king of the world.

And he, the avaricious, was sitting on some random rooftop, staring at clouds, sighing into the air, bored out of his mind and damning the city's entire existence to hell.

His eyes fell from the skyline of Central to the concrete below him and he went to watching the humans below- and what a surprise! It turned out to be just as dull and uninteresting as the sky, but at least it was moving.

He could let his mind wonder with the movement and he could have a chance of figuring out what exactly happened, and what to do next..

If he was honest with himself, his life had been the exact opposite of boring since the Fuhrer decided to pay him a visit. That had made Greed's day.

Who would have thought such a weakling human, the King of Amestris, would have turned out to be a homunculus as well, and an aging one at that? What a joke. Wasn't the purpose of a homunculus to be able to live longer than humans? And here was Wrath- growing old with the rest of the damned.

It was some sort of a sick joke.

The so called '_joke_', however, had been strong. Greed had barely gotten away alive, it was dumb luck that had saved his life.

In any other situation, Greed was on top and never really had to worry about defense and he never kept his shield on longer than he needed. That was when dealing with humans, what he thought he was dealing with. No one said anything about a damned homunculus. It had just been a last minute decision to keep the shield fully on after fighting the blonde, little alchemist brat who somehow had found a way past the carbon. No one had ever been able to do that to him, get past those previously impenetrable forces, and it had startled him enough to make him decide to wear his shield a little longer after he ditched the kid. Man had it paid off.

Not two minutes after Greed had went off to find someone familiar, he had ran right into King Fuhrer Jackass himself who had quite the grudge for Greed even though they had never actually met. He hadn't even known of Wrath's existence and still, like they had known each other for years, Wrath seemed to be well informed and loathed Greed naturally by reputation. He was quite used to by now, people hating him. He could respect hatred when it was directly linked to something horrible he himself had done, but this case was some fucked up 'loyalty to father' complex instead of the usual just finding Greed to be a asshole.

Thankfully, however, whoever had filled Wrath in about his avaricious elder obviously hadn't told the bastard that no matter how many times he tried his neat little sword tricks, he couldn't win against the Ultimate Shield. That, or Wrath new perfectly well and was as stubborn as Pride and just couldn't accept failure.

Either way- lucky Greed.

Greed's ego was always the quick one to be damn certain he could have taken the old man down without the use of his own carbon trick but his more rational side had replayed the fight over and over and, in the short of it, he was extremely grateful with his decision to have kept it on.

The fight that had occurred had resulted in a sore loser Wrath who, when Greed started playing around and gloating, had cut down his companions. HIS possessions. The damned idiots had come crawling back- ready to die to help Greed who didn't need help. Anyone else would have been smart and ran away, but no, not his lot. Even when he screamed at them to go, they didn't budge. Damned things smiled and ran into the fight, head first and continued to stand there and be cut down, one by one, by Wrath's swords.

The death of the dog and cow was a loss, but luckily the armor kid had managed to get the snake out in time. Greed had no way of knowing if she made it all the way out or not, though. Someone could have easily drove a blade right through the kid's body and killed her. So he had to conclude that everyone who had previously followed him was dead, and all because of his taunting, Greed was alone _again_.

The bastard wouldn't have ever found his hideout in the first place if it hadn't had been for that _damn alchemist brat_...

So right now, with his home turned upside down and everyone he trusted dead or missing, his mood was pretty lousy, and his new found addiction to having nothing to do wasn't curing it very well.

Guess it was somewhat of a disadvantage not having all the ties to the 'family', not knowing everything that went on- but that didn't mean he couldn't figure some things out from an inside source.

One line was still willing to talk to him most of the time, despite their distaste for the other.

-_Speak of the demon_.

Greed smirked as he felt the presence appearing behind him. He knew that green aura from anywhere, no matter what form the damn homunculus would ever decide to take, there was always a certain feel to the air; thick, pathetic and _envious_.

"_Close call, idiot." _A grouchy, mumbling voice, far from worry or concern, rang fresh in the air, the insult a conversation starter.

The last of his family that would talk to him was about ten feet behind him and he twisted around to welcome his new company with a brilliant, glinting smile, one that would annoy his little brother in no time at all.

"Envy! Long time, no see!" Greed called cheerfully to the younger homunculus who was leaning on an old, rusty and well used smoke stack near the shadows of the taller building to the right. He was gazing up at the bright sky with no interest at all, no emotion, much like Greed had done not too long before.

Greed looked at his brother more attentively, getting use to this new form of his. He snickered as he took it in.

Envy always liked the pretty boy look; tall, lean, a wild haircut.

"What are you doing here? Come to entertain me?"

"No." He answered placidly, feeling Greed's eyes on his body. His eyes went into forceful slits and locked in to Greed's too happy expression.

It was revolting, visiting his outcast brother. Even so, Envy always came.

He himself wasn't even sure why he always sought out the damned 'Ultimate Shield' every time he was close. This time, when he had overheard from Wrath that Greed had been in Dublith and they had had a run in, Envy somehow knew that his brother would make it here to the city. He didn't care at all for the damned greedy bastard, who he had the unfortunate circumstance to call family, and it sure as hell wasn't a secret that Greed returned the feeling tenfold. He was just curious, he wanted to see Greed still breathing with his own eyes, just to know he couldn't celebrate his brother's death quite yet.

Envy wanted to be certain that he still had his own chance at Greed's throat.

Though, how depressing- as Envy took his eyeful of his big brother for the first time in a couple decades, Greed was, in fact, very much alive.

He hadn't even been _scratched_.

Envy lowered down his head, wild green spikes masking half his face as he took his own examination of Greed. Nothing had changed except the style of clothing. Even that immortal, devious smirk was presented and directed towards Envy, twisting itself larger at his little brother's slightest discomfort.

"Disappointed?" Greed asked with an innocent tone, a hand placed on his chest with mock hurt.

Envy rolled his eyes and tilted his head down further to hide more completely under his hair.

"More like devastated." He murmured to the blazing heat rather to Greed who only grinned more widely as Envy sulked in his shadows.

Of course he was disappointed, Envy hissed in his head. Greed wasn't _dead_.

Greed himself wasn't exactly happy to see the fellow homunculus either, but entertainment was entertainment and Greed was in desperate need of company. Even if he couldn't quite admit it, even if the company was someone like the little green bastard in front of him silent and analyzing and stuck up, it was something.

He watched the demon thoughtfully, taking in more of Envy's new favored look which had a skirt for some odd reason, a miny skirt at that. Always the cross-dresser and this one wasn't even the weirdest the homunculus had come up with. Over the years there had been some interesting ones. Back in the days, when it was just Envy, Lust, Gluttony and himself traveling around and conforming to Father's every waking will, Envy had had more of a feminine form.

Damn- he didn't miss those days a bit. Their existence was either filled with work, or the same boring routine of watching Envy mess with some idiot human, or having to listen to Gluttony bug Lust every fucking minute about being hungry.

He was glad he had gotten out of there as soon as he had.

"I thought for sure Wrath would be the one to get you, bastard." Envy's voice broke Greed's thoughts and the older man looked up at his little brother who was again willing to make eye contact again. Those eyes, framed by wicked strands, were intense and harsh and familiar. Envy was extremely annoyed and Greed suddenly felt like he had just accomplished something great from losing everything back in Dublith.

The older homunculus just snickered and turned back to the city before him, purposely looking straight into the heart of those sick white walls of Central Headquarters.

"That old man?" Greed cackled. "Right! He couldn't even put a _scratch _on me. What was the inhuman idiot Father thinking? Making a homunculus that ages? Isn't the whole purpose of us to _never die_, to be _above _the human race and not fucking _right beside them_?"

Greed glanced back. "Even you think that."

Envy huffed and faced the other direction, a brick wall a few feet away was more worthy of his attention than the avaricious ass he had decided to start a conversation with. Why should he care what Father did? As long as he answered to the creator, his own ass would be fine. It was Greed who was the idiot. Anything he did to go against Father would ultimately lead to his own doom.

The younger homunculus looked past Greed nervously, locking his eyes on those same white walls. Speaking of Father, Envy was running out of time.

They would notice him missing soon.

"You're just mad because I'm still breathing." That evil grin was still fully plastered on Greed face as he continued in a hush, remaining unmoved from his perch above all of Central, stealing Envy's attention yet again.

After some time Envy stood up straight and started moving further away down the top of the roof in the opposite direction, gravel crunching under his feet and the building moaning under his weight. Greed didn't bother watching his brother leave, he felt the conversation die some while ago. Envy had to go play obedient son somewhere anyway.

Envy himself was growing more annoyed than he would have liked to today. On top of that, the longer he spent with Greed, the longer he ran the risk of being caught by Gluttony's idiotic hobby of putting his fat nose where it didn't belong. No doubt he already ran and tattled to Lust about where he was, and if not, whenever Envy showed his face again, Gluttony would be there, the _pig_. Damn _suck-up_.

"You have guts, to laze about in our territory. That or you're incredibly _stupid_." Greed's smile only intensified as Envy continued insulting his brother at every turn. "You and I both know the only reason you're still alive is because you cheat. If it wasn't for that damn shield of yours, _you'd be in pieces_."

Greed roared with laughter, nearly knocking him off the ledge and managing to get out a single word between his fit of breathlessness, catching Envy slightly off-guard.

"_Envious_?" Greed asked, a stupid grin on his face as he fell into foolish giggles yet again as Envy turned red.

Envy's eyes shot back to his brother's and grew dangerously thin, his own wrath expressed clear on his face. He _hated _him. _Hated _that _damn bastard_.

Envy suddenly seemed taller to Greed, even from how far away he was from him, but that didn't stop the torrents of laughter echoing across the top of the building. Envy was dangerous, but he wasn't a threat. And getting the little monster angry, damn it was so much fun.

He crossed his arms across his chest and stared down Greed who just gleamed and waited patiently, finally settling down from his fit.

Breaking the eye lock after an eternity of silence and deciding that just leaving the insult in the air was best, Envy spun on his heels, put his back completely to his brother and growled. "Why don't you just go and annoy someone else!"

"And give up my only means for entertainment?" Greed retorted to Envy's annoyed-to-hell attitude, smiling quite a bit more than he could have ever hoped for today. Damn- his cheeks even hurt.

He knew exactly how to play with Envy, how to get him worked up, where his buttons were and how to push them. Greed was feeling better all ready and didn't want to give his mood up yet. With Envy it was easy to mess with him. The boy was someone he knew how to control, someone he could predict, someone he could win a fight with even without his shield.

He was even someone Greed felt comfortable with.

"Why don't you go play with some human and keep away from me." Envy shot back with a sneer, going beyond his limits for the bastard behind him. He was pretty sure Greed wouldn't follow him if he went back to Father, or even just anywhere near Central HQ, but he didn't want to have any run-ins with the greedy bastard later. So if he could get Greed off his lazy ass and have something else entertain that famously short attention span of Greed's, he could get the man off his back for at least a couple of days.

"Sorry, I'm not as sadistic as you." Greed answered, referring to Envy's specific brand of 'playing' with humans which almost always ended with blood. He settled back into his original position, elbow on knee, palm supporting chin and eyes gazing over the streets before him with no interest whatsoever. The conversation was done so he started back up with his time passing activities. He would have to find the devil later so they could play again.

Greed glanced down the street directly sprawled out in front of him, but there was still nothing to be fully awarded Greed's attention. He scanned aimlessly through the crowds of people, not really searching for anything-

But right when Envy spoke for the last time, right when Greed was about to turn away and give the pissed off homunculus a goodbye smirk, that's when Greed's eyes caught on something familiar and quite _interesting_.

A little ways away, not too far, crossing the street with a herd of people was a short, lean little runt of an alchemist with mess of brilliant _golden hair _and a bright _red jacket_.

"Then get a pet, asshole. I'm not your toy." Envy had finally given up for the day, the last twenty minutes of his life had been a complete waste of time. He hopped off the opposite side of the building that Greed sat and left the man alone to think upon that last suggestion Envy had made.

What a suggestion it had been, too.

Greed wasn't quite sure if his little brother had noticed how perfect the thought he had planted into Greed's mind was, perfect timing as well.

"A pet, huh?" Greed asked in a whisper to himself and smiled deviously a while after Envy had left, eyes still fixed on bright red and gold. The alchemist who caused all of his troubles, the little brat who was the first to get past his shields, he would be his new fixation.

What was his name?

_Edward_...

That wicked smile widened across Greed's lips once more as he watched the boy disappear into a building not a block away. A hotel.

That chuckle hissed through his teeth as he felt the dull haze that had loomed around him disintegrate into thin air.

He had found promising entertainment that could last him a good while.

A pet might be the exact thing to cure his boredom...

- and oh did he had the perfect candidate in mind.

_Lucky Greed_.


	3. Mechanic

**_Summary_**: Greed has lost his home and his allies, on top of this he is incredibly bored... so what happens when he spots the reason for all of his misfortune on the streets and decides to return the favor? Well, trouble mostly.

AU Brotherhood. Yaoi. GreedxEdward. Rated for embarrassment, dirty tricks, adult situations, potty mouths, raging alchemists and unhappy endings! Yaoi consists of boy on boy sex! You have been warned!-**-**

**Special thanks** to my Beta-_ kalina ar' mori_! Without her I am nothing~

_Thanks to everyone who has commented! And to those who are following my story! It really means a lot to me, you have no idea! Please keep reading, and feel free to criticize, anything! I need all the help I can get, I'm so very new to this w_

_So! Thanks to Wecanshootarussianunicorn, Dark-Kumineko, RyaStar2- Haha, it's all part of the plan, Kiriya von Den, Ace, callikitty5- aw, thanks!, Iriisu, Siren215- I'll definitely try not to abandon!, Little Miss Molly- I know! It must change._

**_Disclaimer_**: I do not own anything! Nothing of Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to me! And... probably never will, sadly ;_;

* * *

There were only two big named automail shops in Central that he knew of; one on the west side of the city, and the one closest to his hotel in the east. There were other shops, family owned, small, ones he could get a better fitting, custom arm from. But family shops always took longer.

With a bigger company he could walk in, ask for a new arm, then walk out satisfied the same day content and finally pain free, even if it cost him a fortune- that's what he needed right now. And besides, he wasn't paying for it anyway. Colonel Tight-ass and the rest of the government gang were.

Edward arrived at Central Automail's doors at exactly at six twenty-three. Breda and Havoc had met up with him downstairs at Central HQ and offered to call him a taxi, but Edward had shot their offer down, claiming that he could get there just fine on his own. So he ended up crossing a blacktop desert, drenched with sweat, practically tripping over his feet, dead exhausted and crippled over to prove a point. But he had made it, dammit!

With his pride safe and sound, the automail port executing it's revenge from the earlier work at HQ, his own arm threatening to set fire to his entire nervous system, after all of that – Edward looked up to the door he had been leaning on to catch his breath and came face to face with a 'Closed' sign.

For a second Edward's brain wouldn't register the word, he couldn't comprehend it, it was just a piece of plastic board with strange letters wrapping around themselves. But it didn't take long for his brain to click back into place understand. He cursed at the top of his lungs, causing the stray passerby to turn around and glare at him, but he didn't care - no. Edward only stood there fuming and contemplated hitting the dirty looks closest to him, or even transmuting the entire building to rubble in order to vent his frustration.

His fist pounded on the plastic-glass of the door. It quivered and threatened to crack, but he didn't care. Edward hit it over and over again until his anger diffused enough for his arm to fall back down to his side, defeated. But then it was his forehead that took to pounding.

He hit his head on the door one last time, and then stopped; angry but too tired to do anything about it anymore. The only other option he had was to give up for the day, get a taxi and go back to the hotel. That meant it would be another night sleeping in one position to satisfy his arm and another day of waking up to a limb trying to burn itself off of his body. Every second that went by, Edward was all the closer to breaking down and calling Winry, even if that meant a wrench-shaped dent in his skull.

Edward sighed. No, he couldn't call Winry. Ed couldn't expect her to drop everything and come rushing every time he had an automail problem, it wasn't fair to her. Edward pulled his face from the glass to look to the paper listing of the shop's hours.

He scanned down the neat lines of business hours, looking for today's time. It closed at four on Saturdays. Edward grabbed his watch and flipped it open to check the time; six thirty-seven. He hadn't even been close to getting his arm fixed today, at four o'clock he had been forever trapped under a mountain of paper.

Edward lowered his watch back down into place, then glanced hesitantly at Sunday's time listing for the shop- but he had already guessed his fate.

_Closed on Sunday_

His heart floored immediately and shattered into a million tiny, bloodthirsty pieces that scraped at the bottom of his stomach.

He clutched his arm, furious. Edward could hear his nerves screaming, begging him to do something about the inferno tearing through his neck and chest. Apparently the universe hated him, had damned and doomed him completely. There was only bad luck thrown his way, and the worst of that luck suddenly had the need to attack all in the same week. It was seeping through Edward, the despair, nothing was going right and nothing was going to let him off easy for once in his life- forever the struggle. And Edward had known all along that it would be. The day he and Al had set off on their journey, it had sealed his own fate of misery. What Edward wanted most wasn't something he was going to get easily, and he _knew_ that, but with all the crap he had to deal with, was one break so much to ask for?

Even though they wondered if he was okay, everyone who saw Edward ignored the teenager crippled over, leaning face forward into the brick of the building. Of course, Edward couldn't be more thankful for it, and as he tried to figure out what exactly his options where, it grew darker, it grew later, and less people passed him as he sulked there, asking the universe why it was always him.

"Excuse me." A dry voice crackled behind him and a lone finger tapped at Edward's shoulder.

Edward turned around wearily; ready to bite off the head of whoever was interrupting his pity party. But he stopped, mid-sentence, his voice trailing off mid-insult as he took in the figure's appearance.

The man before him was short, stout; he had a strong nose that was a little too big for his face. His hair was as black as the streaks on his cheek and forehead, the same colored substance also covering the man's hands like gloves. Edward guessed that the stuff was grease. The man wore a white shirt, which seemed pointless for someone so unkempt. An oily handkerchief was crushed into a stained pocket into his black pants, well used and in desperate need of replacing. He pulled out another, more kept one as he coughed violently into his arm, then turned to the fabric instead of his limb.

He excused himself, tucking the cloth back into place.

"Yeah?" Edward asked, his tone slightly edged and irritated. He knew what the man wanted; he had spent enough time in Rush Valley to know what someone dressed in grease wanted when they approached him.

All the man gave him was a quick nod to Edward right arm, which was still cleverly concealed under his jacket sleeve with only his metal fingers peeking out. Ed wondered how he knew about his arm, but he guessed it wasn't hard to deduce that a person banging his head on a closed automail shop's door was either in need of a repair. Edward stared down uninterested, waiting for the stubby man to get on with what he wanted.

The mechanic's eyebrows fell and covered the tops of his beady eyes. "You need a repair, kid?"

Kid?

_KID?_

Edward's irritation surged, but as his mouth flew open to correct that at sixteen he was anything but a kid, he was interrupted.

"Either you wait till Monday, or you follow me and let me do it." He turned around at that moment, point across, and started walking off down the sidewalk.

Edward stood there stunned as he was left alone. He took a look behind him, seeing only to dark shadows of people a couple blocks away. Turning back around, he noticed that only the little man was the only one, besides himself, there on the streets. Ed's eyebrows leveled, and he glared into the back of the person still walking away from him.

Late at night, a strange man just happens to come along and offer his help oh so conveniently. Then, he wants you to follow him to his creepy little hideout to 'help you out', then the door shuts and you're never seen again. At least, that's how the situation usually played out in the newspaper articles and scary stories. And Edward was used to his own circumstances. On more than one occasion there had been an ambush around the corner, or even more recently a fucking homunculus.

Had Edward not have been sure of his own strength, and sure that one more miserable day with his arm would be his mental end, he wouldn't have followed.

He took to a sullen expression, but with being certain the man would leave him for dead on the street, Edward was out of patience and could care less for how it could backfire on him. He needed his shoulder fixed _now, _tomorrow wasn't an option anymore.

He caught up to and followed his new, self-hired mechanic down and across the darkening street, and sure enough, without warning, the man stopped short at their destination.

It was just a house; at least, that was what it looked like. No mom-pop shop, no run down shack in an alleyway, just a house; and a nice one, too, surrounded by equally clean, white bricked houses with red-brown roofs and black picket fences. It was like something out of a fancy home catalogue.

Edward looked to the man in front of him and watched him skillfully twist his key into the gate's lock, then shove it back into his pocket. It didn't fit. Compared to the setting, the man seemed horribly misplaced with his untidy appearance. It made the teenager question if it was even the man's home, or maybe one of his colleague's…. maybe he was breaking into it.

The man climbed the stairs and his fingers fumbled for another key in a different pocket from the last.

_Unorganized_ - Edward couldn't help to think, and he expected that the inside of the house was just the same as his company's apparent personality. That had to be it, that was the catch. The outside was nice and pleasant and deceiving, then the inside was a wreck; tools and grease and underwear and half-eaten burgers everywhere.

The door was pushed opened and the man stepped aside to beckon Edward to hurry inside.

Edward held himself on the porch for a moment more, and again started to question if he was being led into something. The impressive house on a prestigious street had thrown him off, and, strangely, Edward would have been more trusting of a run-down, alleyway shop at this point.

He hesitated, but the ache in his arm finally commanded his legs forward into the house. Caution was the only defense now. If he was going to willingly walk into a situation, he had to stay alert and ready to fight an army at any moment.

Something just wasn't right.

The man nearly closed the door on Edward, but the man didn't seem to notice. He simply ignored Edward's commotion and took a quick look to the streets through the last little crack. They were vacant.

Satisfied, he shut and locked his door quickly.

"I can't offer you any tea. Got coffee, though." He walked around Edward who was standing right where he had entered.

Edward cursed the man, but shrugged off his irritation enough to settle down and rake a look at the place. And again, he was stunned into silence.

Inside was perfectly kept, bright and white and not a speck of dust even heard of between the walls. He couldn't connect the pieces in his head. The man before him, callous and a greasy mess, belonged to this house?

"Is this your place?" Ed couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Of course it is, who's else?" He called annoyed from the kitchen, the word idiot being mumbled but still audible in the hall Edward wandered.

Edward glared at the back of the man fumbling around his large kitchen, and Edward was tempted to half believe that he had at least been in the house before. By the way he knew exactly where everything was placed; cup, coffee and pots alike, the man must have known the house and spent some time there.

"Don't just stare." Edward met the man's own glare as he came to from studying the place around him. The man pointed a short finger out into the hall where they had come. "Down the hall, last door on the left. Go down the stairs and don't touch anything."

He coughed again, first into his arm, then into his handkerchief.

Edward sized up the man again, only a little taller than himself, not much of a fighter from his appearance, and Ed decided that, if it came to it, he could definitely beat the guy. The best thing about being small, and honestly, Edward's own greatest strategy, was that people tended to underestimate you. So Edward was banking on that.

The only thing he really had to worry about was if someone else was in the house with them. Maybe it was an ambush and two, three other guys who could take Edward on where waiting for him. In that case, could he really chance it? He should leave before something happens…

At least, that's what Edward would have done, but his arm protested sharply again. Following strangers nearly got him killed on a daily basis, but his injury wasn't going to let him back out that easily. If it meant finally getting rid of the damn pain, chancing a fight was worth it, hell chancing death was worth it.

Edward nodded back to the man and turned, heading for this door as instructed.

The door swung open with a sick whine to show a case of stairs that led down into a black nothingness. Edward's hand slid up the wall and his fingers met a switch. Three lights on the ceiling sparked to life and illuminated the stairway, all the way down to the bottom. He waited a while, listening to anything and everything; he could hear the coffeepot gurgling in the kitchen, some other dishes clinking together and the occasional coughing fit and fabric being pulled from a pocket. But as long as Edward listened at the top of the stairs, there wasn't a single sound from below or from any of the rooms around him.

He slowly made his way down – but nothing came, not even when he reached the bottom and flipped on another light. The door wasn't shut closed behind him suddenly. No one was had been waiting in the shadows to jump him, nothing.

The tension inside of him slipped away as the rest of the place was illuminated.

Edward smiled triumphantly; now this was more of what he had expected from the stranger. He could definitely imagine the man as a mechanic now.

Messy, unorganized, everything covered in black, much like the man upstairs.

Greased tools were scattered across the concrete floor and on the benches and shelves on the wall. Automail limps hung in disarray off of the wood holding them up, grease splattered and running like a bloody massacre.

Edward stepped around the grease spots and made his way into a room directly in front of him. Switching on that light, his eyes met a tidier room with a single bench, chair and bed.

There was a white, spotless coat draped across the back of the chair, obviously one of the only things well kept down there. Light reflected into Ed's eyes and he looked closer to the coat. A shined-up, clean name tag glinted in the artificial light. Edward inspected the rectangle, reading the name etched carefully into the brass;

Konner J. Haupt

Edward tucked his hand into his jacket pocket and ducked out of the room as footsteps sounded from behind him. Edward turned to the man holding two cups of coffee.

The man attempted a weary, half smile, and let it drop just as fast.

"Take off the jacket, let me take a look." he huffed.

Edward sat on the bed and the man set his mug on the table top, handed Edward his own, and sunk into his chair with one swift motion. Ed watched as the white jacket was taken away from view and stuffed casually into a drawer in the bench.

Edward managed to take off his jacket with his left arm alone, and set it beside him on the bed as he was handed his coffee.

He took it gratefully, but stopped before tasting it.

"It's black. I don't keep cream in the house." The man spoke, raising his mug to drink heavily from it. He swallowed and turned away to cough, he wiped his mouth and turned back to face Ed. "Sorry if that's a problem."

"No, it's fine." Edward answered, relieved. He took a grateful drink from his milk-free mug as well. The man didn't like cream? Edward was starting to like this guy more.

-Until the man grabbed for Edward's arm.

Edward gasped and nearly choked on his coffee. He quickly put the cup down before he ended up dropping it.

The man continued to fiddle with Edward's destroyed limb no matter how much the teen squirmed and tried to pull away. He instead held Edward down as he pressed the arm to its limits, testing to see how much movement it was capable of.

Edward hissed and bit his bottom lip without mercy. He leaned forward and clawed into his shoulder to keep himself still. Through his brow he watched the mechanic study his shoulder's flexibility. The man's hands gripped towards Edward's elbow, moving his joint back and forth. Something pulled down on his port and the teen hissed and jerked away. His arm was let go with that and Edward hugged it closer to him, not daring to move and have another jolt of fire race through him.

"Lay down, I need to disconnect it." The man turned away to grab some of his tools.

"Hey!" Ed choked a word out, and wiped the sweat away from his forehead. "We haven't even discussed anything yet, what are you planning on doing? I need an arm, you know!"

The man swiveled in his seat and looked back with a bored expression.

"The name's Alban. I'm charging you a fair fee, based on how much work this is going to take, it will be around what your regular mechanic charges." Edward glowered, but let him continue. "I need to disconnect that arm of yours; I think I have a model pretty similar to it. Of course, it's not as – artistic, but I'm sure you won't mind. Now - _lay down_."

"Fine, _Alban_." Edward sneered but gave in, and stretched out carefully on the bed.

Alban pushed down on Edward's shoulder to keep it steady, and got on with his work. In a moment the arm was off, but the pain wasn't gone, it had just strangely numbed over. The man placed Edward's arm on the bench behind him, then started to poke around the boy's port. It stung, and at times pain ripped through his chest, but Edward kept himself detached and still by focusing on what had been placed right into his field of vision; his arm.

It was still a little surreal; whenever he saw one of his limbs removed. And the more the mechanic poked around inside him, the more Edward wished for the day he could get his arm back.

Edward heard the man mumble under his breath, and then an 'Ahaa' came from his dry lips. Ed didn't just hear something being clipped into place, he felt it, and in an intense rush of fire, all of a sudden, like an ocean pouring over lava, the inferno in his shoulder was snuffed out and instantly frozen over.

A loud sigh of relief echoed in the room as Edward smiled in relief, wiped off his brow and swiped back his bangs from his face.

_Finally_

"I bet that feels better, hm?" Alban asked without looking up, busy now with Edward's limb back on the bench behind him.

"Yeah, loads better." Edward relaxed for the first time in several days and moved to sit up against the wall. He managed to bring his now cold coffee back up to him and took it in gulp after gracious gulp.

"Mhmm. I can tell." Alban whispered, more to himself than to Ed. "Your attitude's improved."

Edward shot a look to him, but didn't have the will to complain. The bulk of the pain was gone, the soreness was still there, but that was nothing in comparison. The only bad thing about his shoulder being fixed was that now, with the fire gone, Edward's body focused in to the multiple, still fresh bruises and cuts all over his body. That would be the thing to kill him in the morning, he was sure, but he would take it all on gratefully, it was nothing in comparison.

"Sit up; let me look at the leg." Alban motioned, coughed again, and went instantly to work at Edward's knee. Ed himself went from watching the mechanic work to staring into his half-finished coffee cup.

"So." Ed started, glancing to the tools on the table in front of him absentmindedly. "Are you a doctor or something?"

"No." Alban answered, and that was the only answer for a while. After a few minutes he had finished with Ed's knee. His leg didn't have to come off to be repaired; the extent of the damage had been on Ed's arm. The man swiveled in his seat and went back to messing with Edward's disassembled limb instead. When his back was towards the bed, Alban began again. "You're probably wondering why someone like me would live in such a pricey house, though, yea?"

Bull's-eye. Edward gulped down another swig of bitter coffee in agreement.

"Well, I'm a mechanic. Always have been one, so don't worry about my capability. I was an important man, once, too, but that was a long time ago. No one remembers." He huffed, grabbing for a different piece of metal and wiping his brow off with his dirtier cloth. "Doesn't matter, really. This house was given to me, I didn't really have a say in it, I guess. Personally it's too big, I only ever use the kitchen and this place, besides the bed and bath. There's a girl who comes in and cleans. Don't want her either really, but she's nice to talk to I guess."

Edward could believe that, the rest of the place didn't even look lived in, untouched. And Alban didn't look like the cleaning type.

The blonde studied the man's hunched figure further, and noticed an age to him that Ed hadn't seen there before. His black hair was even thin and graying.

Suddenly Alban put down his things, finished the rest of his cold coffee in one gulp, and stood up from his work.

"I'll need this to stay here for a couple of days, see if it's fixable." He looked down to Edward and motioned for him to stand with a nod. "I need to get your measurements for the replacement."

The tape came out, and the mechanic scribbled down the sizes of Edward's arm on some scrap paper. He nodded his head and tucked the paper into his pocket along with everything else bundled there, the job done.

He walked back to the little room with the bed and turned off that light and headed for the stairs.

"W-wait-." Edward started confused, watching him reach for the other light that lit the rest of the room.

"Well, don't just stand there." Alban yelled back, waiting for Edward to follow him.

"I need an arm!" Edward spoke with a strained tone, wondering why the man was leaving and wanted him to leave too. He was at least expecting to have a low grade replacement for the night. The man flicked the light off despite Edward's protests and started up the stairs anyway.

"Come back in two days. I'll have your replacement done by then." Alban rubbed the back of his neck with his cloth and then brought it around to his mouth to cough in.

Edward rushed up after him and grabbed his shirt with his hand.

"You don't understand." Ed seethed, preventing the man to walk away, in attempt to prove his point. "Money isn't a problem and it doesn't have to be fancy as long as it's functional, but I _need_ an arm. If I don't I won't have my a-"

"Alchemy." The man finished for him, looking bored again as he twisted further around to face Edward, who was now eye level to him due to the stairs. "What, the almighty Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist can't survive two measly days without his alchemy?"

Edward blinked and released the man's shirt from his grip. His gaze turned hard. Ed hadn't told the man his name, and he definitely hadn't told him that he was a state alchemist.

They stood there the stairs, glaring each other down with iced expression, and then, to Edward's complete surprise again; the man smiled at him and even managed a half-laugh that failed miserably and came out as a coughing fit.

"Relax, kid." He continued up the stairs, a reluctant Edward keeping safe distance, but following, thrown off once more. The man wheezed again. "I saw the state watch on your way in, and judging by how old you look, it wasn't so impressive of me to guess that you were the famous brat alchemist."

Edward wasn't so quick to relax and took the insult bitterly, but, once again, what the man said made sense. It wasn't impossible, Edward supposed, that he had been figured out. And he was in Central, he was pretty well known in this city, for both the good and the bad. Edward felt his watch swishing across his leg as he walked, it was a dead giveaway.

"I didn't know you were much of a fighter, though, that arm is a wreck and I don't think it got that way by sitting at home. I bet you're a kid with some enemies." He mused as they continued down the hall to the front door.

Edward followed at a distance, and eventually they were both back where they had entered. Alban unlocked the bolts on the door and opened it, saying his goodbyes with an odd, somewhat tired smile.

"If you know who I am then you should understand why I need some sort of replacement." Edward argued, halting in the living room and ignoring Alban practically pushing him out the door.

"Go home kid, it's only two days. If something horrible happens to you because you were missing an arm in the next forty-eight hours, then your repair will be free, how's that?"

"Money isn't the issue, I told you that!"

"Fine, then life-time warrantee? 24 hour repair service? Whatever gets you out of my house faster, kid." Alban glared at him, annoyed, his door wide opened and waiting for the teenager to get his ass out.

"You don't get it -!" Edward huffed, ready to defend his point, but Alban interrupted with a voice much angrier than the man looked capable of.

"No." Alban started, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "_You_ don't get it. I'm old, I'm tired. It's midnight and I want to go to bed. I fixed your port up, I'm done for today. _Get out_." Alban violently coughed at the conclusion of his speech and searched frantically for his handkerchief.

The teenager waited for the fit to end, then shook his head, exasperated. He was done too. The old man obviously wasn't going to give in, and from there short screaming match Edward could see that there were a few people out on their porches wondering what was going on.

"_Fine." _Edward gave in and pushed himself past the man.

"Just be careful, you'll be fine." He murmured to Edward as he passé. Ed stopped out on the porch to give the guy one more glare, but Alban's face was shadowed. He couldn't find the eyes to glower at.

Edward frowned, the way Alban was standing now, the way his hand lingered on the door, itching to slam it shut and lock it up once more, it was all odd- strange and misplaced.

"After all- " Alban spoke, his voice suddenly low and void of emotion. "It's dangerous for a helpless kid, all alone."

Edward could only stare back as the man's shadow morphed into some twisted creature that seemed to know something important he didn't.

"Goodnight then." He spoke once more, sliding the door shut and leaving an unsteady Edward in the dark on the porch.

His black eyes suddenly came out from hiding as the light from inside revealed his features, and Edward saw a sick apologetic emotion in them as the man's lips moved one last time;

"See you Monday."

The door clicked into place and bangs sounded on the other side as several locks were slammed desperately into place.


End file.
